


Clockwell's Law

by Galena



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:11:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galena/pseuds/Galena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whirl gives Rung a ride on his alt mode.</p>
<p>Pointless fluff! :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clockwell's Law

**Author's Note:**

> "If your friend can fly and you can't, they are obligated to give you a ride." -William Clockwell (para-phrased a little)
> 
> Whirl's alt looks imminently ride-able, thus... Enjoy!

It was a dead planet. Thousands of years before, it had harboured organic life, liquid water, and a thin, fragile atmosphere. Judging from the crater just south of the equator in the eastern hemisphere, the planet had suffered a collision with something, triggering a cascading collapse of atmospheric composition, disruption of the planet's hydrology, and the eventual sterile environment Rung now gazed out at.

There was no logical reason why Rung needed to accompany the expedition team to the planet's surface. His speciality was not useful planetside, his alt mode was vastly underpowered, and he carried no weapons. He had simply wanted to get off the ship for a while. Rung made his case to Rodimus after several other crew members had requested leave. He stared up, polite and quiet, while everything Rodimus had not prevented from happening to the psychiatrist spilled through the captain's processor.

The view was starkly beautiful from the ledge Rung had found, several meters below the lip of a spectacularly tall cliff. There was just a sliver of atmosphere left, a hesitant crescent hanging above the far distant horizon. The planet below was laid out in swathes of charcoal; the sky above was star-stippled black. Rung vented softly and crossed his legs, relaxing back against the cliffside.

Drift commed him. “Doctor? Rodimus says you've got two more hours of vacation.”

“Thank you,” Rung replied. _Vacation._ He supposed it was, all eight hours of it. 

In the distance, something arced across the sky; one of the fliers out stretching his wings. Rung watched the other's progress, mildly envious of the effortless freedom displayed in his flight. He smiled as the arc turned into a series of spiralling dives that took the mech down into the murky striated texture of the horizon.

He rose up again moments later, streaking straight into the sky, and Rung saw that it was Whirl. He cocked his head, listening to the 'copter push his engine to the limit. He passed the point where a plane would have stalled and kept climbing, the quiet thump of his shrouded rotors reaching Rung across the emptiness. Whirl reached the apex of his climb and shut off his engines, teetering over into nose-first free-fall.

Rung watched the 'copter plummet, eyebrows slowly peaking as Whirl hurtled downward. It would be so simple, so explicable, if he just didn't pull up... Rung leaned forward, spinal strut tensing. But Whirl pulled up, far from the ground, engines roaring on, pulling him into level flight. Rung settled back against the stone.

The 'copter did a series of near-barrel-rolls, swooping side-to-side up the valley and back, then flying in circles in front of Rung's cliff. After half an hour of racing, climbing, and diving, Whirl settled down and followed the weak thermal rising from the valley below in lazy ovals.

“Wanna ride?” the 'copter commed.

“A ride?”

“You've been watching. You wanna come up here?”

“Oh, no. Thank you Whirl but I-”

“Come ooooooon. It'll be fun.” Whirl swooped down to hover directly in front of Rung, close enough to touch. “Get up on my back.”

Rung hesitated. “No, I can't. I'm not a flier.”

“But you want to be right now, don't you?”

“This is a terribly unsafe idea.”

“Pfft. This doesn't even rank as unsafe. So long as you keep your hands and feet clear of my rotors. Come on, Doc.”

Every rational circuit in Rung's processor balked, but something giddy and illogical made him stand up on the ledge and take a tentative step forward. Whirl held himself steady as Rung seized one of his stabilizers and put a foot on his rotor mount. He quickly shuffled the other foot over and sat down, straddling Whirl's body just behind his rotors.

“How- how should I hold on?”

“Scoot back a bit- yeah, there you go. Grab onto the stabilizers. A little lower.”

“This feels precarious.”

“It'll make more sense when we're moving. You ready?”

“Maybe?” Rung said, suddenly aware that there was nothing between him and the valley floor but a psychologically unstable bot with a long history of violence.

“The longer you think about it, the harder it's gonna get. Here we go.”

Rung bit off the whimper rising in his vocalizer as Whirl slowly raised them up away from the ledge. He turned, facing away from the cliff, and accelerated carefully. Rung's spark turned over. They were out above the valley proper now and Whirl turned, banking into a wide circle. Rung understood the position Whirl had asked him to take and settled his weight against the helicopter.

“That's nice now, isn't it?”

“It's... not unpleasant.”

Whirl chuckled, the sound vibrating subtly through his frame. He increased his speed, spiralling up into the dark void. Rung hung on. They climbed lazily and Rung's wonder began to out-weigh his trepidation. It was beautiful up here, the vista complimented by the thrum of Whirl's engines and the thin, cold wind. There was a sense of enormous space and tranquillity.

Whirl flew up the valley, banked gently and began to climb above the ridge to the east. Rung clung to his stabilizers, spark pulsing with excitement as they rose. 

“Pretty,” said Whirl. There was more contentment in his voice than Rung was used to hearing.

“It is,” Rung sighed. He became aware of the helicopter's personal electro-magnetic field fizzling peacefully against his own. Whirl typically kept his EMF tightly controlled; it was only through physical contact that other bots encountered it and then it was usually brief, aggravated, and offensive. Now it mingled passively with Rung's, not seeking or prodding or challenging, just existing.

They continued in silence for some time, Whirl meandering through the topography without hurry or goal. He paused, hovering, when they came upon a delicate arch of stone, long ago hewn by wind or water erosion. Neither of them said anything but Whirl moved around to various vantage points, investigating the formation with apparent interest. He got close enough that Rung was able to reach up and touch the smooth surface with curious fingertips. 

They moved on. Rung pointed out a deep crevasse and they skimmed along it, so close to the ground they left a wake of dust. They climbed again, Rung leaning forward to cling with unabashed strength to Whirl's cockpit as they nosed into the sky. The helicopter eased out of the climb, giving Rung time to adjust his centre of gravity and catch hold of the vertical stabilizers again.

Eventually Drift commed them, recalling them to the _Lost Light_. Whirl made a long, slow arc in response, drawing his EM field in slightly. The ship lurked on the horizon, wearing faint gold highlights dispersed by the planet's atmosphere. Whirl cut his engines and glided for several hundred metres on momentum alone, coming in for a landing at an angle so flat Rung hardly noticed the drop in altitude. Mere metres from the ground, Whirl's rotors engaged again and they were hovering.

“Fun, right?” said Whirl, settling onto his belly. Rung disembarked carefully.

Fun wasn't really the right word, but Rung nodded. “I didn't expect it to be so... relaxing.”

The 'copter transformed and stretched. “Yeah, well, you looked pathetic sitting there all by yourself and your alt mode sucks, so...” He shrugged, turning his single glowing optic down towards the psychiatrist. Their EM fields were still in contact and Rung flared his by mere microns, stroking along the edge of Whirl's field in a gentle brush.

“It was fun.” Rung smiled.


End file.
